The Unthinkable
by Kitty O
Summary: Pa is dead - sort of; Joe is jumping to conclusions - almost; and Adam is running from the law - kind of. Could it get any worse? Oh wait... First fanfiction EVER.
1. Chapter 1

_Yeah, I know it's a little short, but this is my first fanfiction EVER. Please tell me what you think. I'll send the next chapter as soon as I can. Also, I have never seen Adam's eyes widen in horror-so that was my creative license at work._

I.

Little Joe Cartwright was a decent sort of guy, with curled hair and a handsome face. He boiled over often, fell in love easily, and frequently jumped to conclusions. He always seemed to be laughing; his father and older brothers never could stop his pranks or cure his impulsiveness. And sometimes it was that same impulsiveness that nearly killed him and the ones he loved.

Joe stood in the street, feet apart, looking amused. Next to him was his older half-brother, Hoss, and neither could tear their eyes away from Doc Martin's place.

"What in tarnation are they thinkin'?" asked Hoss, the gentle giant of the family.

The cowboy's brother shrugged and laughed a little in his high-pitched way. Adam and Pa rarely quarreled, but when they did, they went all-out. The bellows issuing from Doc's place were beginning to attract attention.

"Well, at least Doc ain't in there; he's safe," observed Joe, his hands on his hips.

Hoss wrinkled up his face like he did when concerned or confused. "Couldn't they at least wait 'til they got home?"

"Love makes a man do crazy things," chuckled Joe, kicking at the dusty ground and looking over at Elizabeth Rawls, Adam's girl. Little Joe liked her. She was caring and gentle, but practical and smart. Still, he didn't feel that she was the girl for Adam Cartwright. Her natural quietness and unwillingness to express her opinions out loud would cause Adam to walk all over her without even knowing he was doing it.

"I didn't know Adam was so far gone on her," he added, for the discernable shouts from Doc's pretty much announced to the world that he wanted to ask Beth to marry him…

And Pa didn't approve.

"I thought Pa _liked_ her," remarked Hoss. "Must be mighty embarrassin' for that gal."

"Yeah," agreed Joe, sympathetic but unable to keep the smirk off his face. It felt good to have _Adam_ be yelled at by Pa for a change. "I wonder how all this got started?"

"No idea. Hey, where are Roy and Doc, anyway?"

Joe didn't answer. Instead he strolled up to Beth, an attractive girl who was a few years younger than Adam. "Sorry 'bout this," he said to her kindly. "Don't know what got into them."

"Oh, it's awful!" wailed Elizabeth rather unconvincingly. Her twinkling blue eyes gave it away: she was both flattered and entertained. (_Not a very good actress, is she?_ thought Joe privately.) Pa's words seemed to glance right off of her, but she soaked up Adam's defensive remarks as though they were sunshine.

"I suppose," agreed Joe. "Don't worry. Doc's gone to get Sheriff Coffee."

Beth looked startled for a moment, then said, "What? Do you think they'll hurt each other?"

Joe hastened to reassure her. "No. Of course not, but they're making a disturbance."

She tried to relax, but her face still showed signs of alarm. "Little Joe, you had me worried."

"Ma'am, those two would never hurt each other!" he said with an easy laugh and a look towards Doc's house.

Adam's last yell seemed to go up in volume, and Pa went silent.

"Sounds like Adam's winning," noticed Beth.

A gun went off. _BANG! _Little Joe spun around, pushing Beth behind him and searching for the unseen shooter. The door to Doc's flew open. There stood Adam, hazel eyes wide and horrified, but his face cold.

"Adam?" called Joe, running towards his brother, and Hoss right behind him. What had happened? Where was Pa?

Adam didn't wait for them to get there. He took off the opposite way, leapt onto Sport, and galloped away before Joe and Hoss even reached the house.

"Adam!" shrieked Beth, foolishly trying to grab at him as he rode past and missing.

Joe grabbed at the door frame, turned away from Adam's retreating figure, and tried to keep himself upright as he peered into the room. His handsome face grew ashen.

Hoss, right next to him, didn't try to stop Joe as he whirled and ran away, pushing his older brother aside. _Stop him?_ thought Hoss. He couldn't have if he'd wanted to. He was frozen, paralyzed by what he saw…Ben dead on the floor.

People were beginning to crowd around Hoss, trying to push their way inside the house. He turned to face them, letting his bulk fill the doorway so that no one could see or go in. Joe was riding out of town on Cochise, flying to the Ponderosa, the Cartwrights' ranch. Surely he would bring Adam back, and then Adam would explain…

Explain what? What could Adam say to make things better, to talk his way out of this predicament? He'd killed their Pa, hadn't he? Why, bleated Hoss's brain. Why would he shoot the man they all loved so much?


	2. Chapter 2

_Please enjoy and review. By the way, almost everyone (Hop Sing, Joe, Hoss, Adam, Sam, etc...) is a real Bonanza character, so I don't own them. Only Beth, Frank Lee, and Dave are mine. _

II.

Little Joe slid off his horse and raced for the door, crying, "Hop Sing! _Hop Sing!_"

The short Chinese cook came waddling out of the house as fast as he could, smiling. "What big hurry for, Mister Joe?" Then he noticed the pronounced scowl Joe wore and the smile slipped off of his face. What _was_ wrong?

"Did Adam stop by?" barked Joe, not caring if he hurt Hop Sing's sensitive feelings.

"Mister Adam change horse, grab blanket and food. Then leave."

"Where'd he go?" asked Joe, not expecting an answer, but silently hoping for one, because no guilty man would tell where he was going next.

Hop Sing shook his head. "He no say."

Joe nodded slowly. "All right. Hop Sing, pack me some sandwiches or something. I'll be gone a few days, and I'll come back with Adam. I'll bet he headed for Carson City, that's the nearest…" The last sentence was directed to himself, not Hop Sing.

Hop Sing had noticed the dangerous glint in Joe's eyes, and remembered many times when an escapade that began with that look, ended in near disaster. "What Mister Adam do?"

Joe went to the barn. "He killed Pa," he said, but so softly that Hop Sing couldn't hear. And that was probably a good thing, because such an announcement would have been too much for the little man, and he probably would've gone straight back to China in such a hurry that he wouldn't have needed to stop and board a boat.

As it was, the words just drifted away on a light breeze, and Joe wished it could carry away the pain in his chest as well.

**E****ARLIER THAT SAME ****D****AY**

Adam sat at the only empty table at the Bucket O' Blood, trying to decide whether or not he actually wanted a drink. Beth walked up to him, and he felt the need to give her the truthful compliment:

"You look beautiful."

Beth's lively brown curls were pulled up, away from her neck, and he blue satin dress matched her eyes.

"I look cheap and more than a little silly," she corrected him, but very quietly, as if she didn't really want Adam to hear her.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said. "You look fine."

Beth smiled a little and gave in, not wanting to fight over something 'silly'. How could she admit that her problem was that she could almost hear her strict, oh-so-moral mother turning over in her early grave?

"Thanks for stopping by here anyway," she told him. "Do you want to stick around town and have dinner with me tonight?"

"I'll see," said Adam, who was a little on edge today. This was odd. Adam Cartwright was very rarely anxious about anything, at least not outwardly.

"Hey, Beth!" called a man from another table. "You want a drink, or you want to stand around talking to him all night?"

"Be right there, Dave," she called back cheerfully. "I'm sure he wants me to help him cheat at cards. He'll never learn. I'll be right back," she told Adam. _Buy a drink and it'll help you loosen up,_ she wanted to add, but didn't dare.

He nodded and waved her off. After she left, Adam sank back into his chair. He wanted a drink but wasn't really in the mood. Also, it was nice to be relaxing, but the noise of the crowded saloon might force him to leave before he could finish a beer. And the saloon was crowded indeed; every table but his was completely full.

A tall, lanky stranger entered his line of vision. Adam looked up. Pale eyes, dark skin, white teeth. His ratty cowboy hat was pulled down, and his clothes were strangely clean.

Adam jumped a little and very nearly went for his gun, utterly convinced that this man was going to shoot him down then and there. But slowly he relaxed, beginning to realize that the angry look in the man's eyes was permanent; it wasn't Adam in particular he hated.

"Mind if I sit?" asked the man. "Everywhere else is filled up."

"Go ahead. I'm leaving soon, but I'll buy you a drink."

"Thanks," said the man, sitting down, "I'll have a whiskey."

Adam nodded. "Sure. Hey Sam, whiskey, if you don't mind."

"Here you go," said Sam, the fat bartender, placing two glasses and a bottle on the counter.

Adam got up and brought it to the table. He poured the amber liquid into the glasses, and gave one to the other man. "What's your name, stranger?"

"Lee. Francis Lee, but friends call me Frank."

"You aren't from around here," stated dark-haired Adam, bringing his glass to his mouth and drinking some of it.

"That's right," grunted the man, draining his glass.

"Here on business?" asked Adam.

"Sort of," responded the man vaguely. He peered at Adam more closely. "Do you live around here?"

"Sort of," copied Adam, smiling slightly but unexplainably annoyed with this man.

Frank gave Adam an appraising look, as though trying to measure him in his mind, to see right into his brain. "Been here long?"

"Yes," said Adam warily.

"You know most of the people around here, I guess?"

"I know a good many of them," agreed Adam. "What did you say your name was again? Are you looking for someone?"

"Frank Lee." Frank looked at Adam as though he expected to hear the same old joke. But Adam wasn't much for dumb jokes, so Frank continued, "I'm not really looking for some_one_. I…was thinking of getting myself a job around here, and I heard the Ponderosa is just about the biggest spread in Nevada. Do you think there's work to be found for me there?"

Adam was distracted, trying to remember where he'd heard the name before. Frank Lee. The stranger stared at Adam for several seconds before the question registered in Adam's brain.

"Maybe," he said with a shrug. "Actually, I…" but then Adam stopped. Francis Lee. Frankie. He did know that name. Francis was not a ranch hand.

His face stoic despite his sudden alarm, Adam poured Frank another drink.

The angry-looking man gulped it down faster than Adam could've. "What was that?" he asked.

Adam answered, "I know the men there. Nice folks. You never know about the job." He poured another glass for Frank.

"That would be great," said Frank slowly.

Soon the ferocious look in Frank's eyes was replaced by one of dazed complacency. But the hatred couldn't quite be banished from them, even then. He took another drink. Adam hadn't even finished his first.

_What a strange man he is, _Adam found himself thinking.

He left Frank there. The other man didn't even notice. Adam got to his feet and started for the swinging doors, but Beth got in his way.

"Where are you going?" she asked, surprised. "I thought you were gonna wait for me."

Adam looked at her for a moment, then said, "The name Frankie 'Bulls-eye' Lee."

"What about it?" She looked blank for a moment. "It does ring a bell. Bulls-eye Lee. Wait…isn't that the bounty hunter?"

Adam shook his head. "Not just a bounty hunter. He's a jack-of-all-trades. Word has it that he's been in all sorts of shady deals, but there's no proof, witnesses, or complaints."

Beth looked at Adam as though he'd gone a little crazy. "What about him?"

"I don't know," he said under his breath. His brow creased as he looked back over his shoulder, and then he pushed through the doors and left Beth there, completely confused.

Adam walked down the street, still concerned. He wondered for just a moment if he was imagining things, due to what had happened this morning with Pa._ That_ was making him jumpy. But no, a sketchy gunman showing up and asking about Adam's home – any way you looked at, that was suspicious.


	3. Chapter 3

III.

**WHAT HAPPENED WITH BEN THAT MORNING**

Adam came down the stairs slowly, yawning widely.

"There's older brother, awake at last," grumbled Little Joe from the table. "You're sleeping away the day. Must be getting old."

Adam gave his characteristic smirk and said, "I'm still young enough to put you in your place, baby brother."

"Watch it, grandpa," warned Joe with no real venom.

Usually at this point Hoss or Pa would interject a peacemaking or downright cross word. But Hoss was too busy stuffing his face full of Hop Sing's breakfast, and Pa seemed to be distracted by the letter he was reading while sitting at his desk.

Adam scratched his chest once, and then finished buttoning up his usual dark shirt. He sat down for breakfast. "Bad news, Pa?" he asked, helping himself to the food.

"Hmm?" Ben looked up. "Ah…no, no. Don't worry about it."

Adam's mouth snapped shut before his fork reached it. When Pa said 'don't worry' like _that_, how could he help but worry?

"Who's it from?" asked Hoss.

"An old friend of mine," replied Ben.

Hoss didn't think that was so suspicious. Why were Adam's eyebrows on the rise? He shrugged mentally. Perhaps Adam was feeling a little off-kilter this morning. The big man went back to eating. Hop Sing's eggs were sure good today.

"Anyone we know?" asked Joe curiously. He was half-asleep, and noticed neither the tightness of Pa's voice nor the look on Adam's face. It always took Joe a minute or so to wake up completely, and the truth was that he had not made it down the stairs much earlier than Adam.

"I seriously doubt that, son," said Ben kindly, and the boys let the subject drop.

"Well, Joe, ready to go?" asked Hoss. "We got chores to do."

"Sure," said Joe, and stood up.

"I'll be right out," said Adam. The other two left without him, putting on their hats and gun belts as they made small talk all the way out the door.

Ben went back to his letter and when he looked up, Adam was standing in front of him, looking solemn.

"Pa, are sure everything's okay with that letter?" asked Adam suspiciously. Didn't he know his own Pa well enough to know when something bothered him?

Ben sighed. "I'm sure everything's fine." Adam did not look convinced, so Ben continued, "But I'll have to be careful for a while." Without another word, Ben gave Adam the letter.

"_Dear Ben,"_ it read:

"_Here's hoping this letter finds you safe. It's been too long since we've seen each other, but I'm afraid I'm not writing to say hello. I need to warn you. I've also sent a telegram, but in case you don't receive it for whatever reason, I'm also writing this letter."_

Adam walked over to the couch and sat down, putting his feet up. That was something he privately relished being able to do, when it got Joe in so much trouble every time he tried it.

"_There was a recent jailbreak at my prison, and our old friend Johnny Malone was one of the three that got away. We're following the only trail we've found, and expect to get him soon, but I thought, in the meantime, you should be informed. His hatred for you has not decreased over the years; not too long ago I heard him telling a fellow prisoner that he would kill you if he could, and if not he'd thank the man who got there first._

"_The trail we found does not head in the direction of the Ponderosa, but I remember that he has all that money stashed away somewhere, more than enough to bribe as well as hire someone else to do the job – really, enough money to do a number of things. Money is power. That is assuming that he did not split from the others and go his own way._

"_I'm not sure that there is any immediate danger or any danger at all, but now you have been warned. I will keep you updated on our search. Until then, stay safe, old friend._

_Sincerely, G. M. Mayeaux, Warden of…_

Etc. Etc.

Adam put down the letter. "This is bad, Pa."

"Not as bad as it sounds. Remember, everything he thinks is just a guess. Besides, Greg has always had the tendency to assume to worst." Ben shrugged but looked worried just the same.

"Why does this" – Adam looked down at the paper – "Malone hate you?"

Ben sighed. "Malone was an acquaintance of mine, both he and his brother. They weren't the best role models in the world, but they were mainly honest and mostly harmless, except when they were drunk. Which they often were."

Adam nodded to show he understood.

"They were both drunk that night several years ago, down in California. And they were raising some Cain. John's brother, Andrew, was smashing up the place and shooting everywhere. I yelled for him to stop and he shot at me. I dived behind a wall, but he kept firing. Finally I pulled out my gun and shot him in his arm. He fell backward, hit his head on a shelf of whiskey, and died. Johnny snapped to his senses at once, started screaming that I'd killed his brother. He's hated me since then. I guess he just 'went bad' after that, ended up in jail for a short time twice and finally got a sentence of many years. He's broken out, as you read."

Adam tossed the letter in his hand back onto Pa's desk as though he found it distasteful or particularly offending. He leaned against the desk, almost sitting on it but not quite: his usual way. "Don't worry, Pa. We'll make sure nothing happens to you."

"Don't tell your brothers just yet. Promise me. You know them; they'll take it just a little too far."

"All right, Pa," conceded Adam. "Not yet."

"Good. You'd better go help your brothers. Tell them I'm going into town for supplies later. We can make a family trip of it. I think we all deserve a half holiday."

"Are you sure, Pa?" Adam gestured at the letter.

"I'm sure. I'll watch out. Now get to work."

"All right, Pa. All right." Adam retained his worried scowl.

_A/N: Thanks to anyone who read this far. Review and I'll post more. _


	4. Chapter 4

IV.

**A ****L****ITTLE ****W****HILE ****A****FTER ****A****DAM ****L****EFT THE ****S****ALOON**

"Adam, I don't know what I can do for ya right now," apologized Roy Coffee. "You don't have any proof. For Pete's sake, you barely have any suspicions!"

Adam sighed. "I understand, Roy. I just thought you should know, because my Pa wasn't going to tell you…"

The door opened. Beth stepped in, wearing a dark blue cape over her dress and looking worried. Automatically, Roy and Adam got to their feet.

"Miss Rawls!" Roy greeted her, making his way over to her. "What brings you to my office?"

"I…was looking for Adam," said Beth softly. "I wanted to talk with him."

"Is something wrong?" asked Adam.

"Maybe?" she said, making it sound like a question.

"What is it?" asked Roy curiously.

Beth cleared her throat, giving Roy a nervous look. Sounding like a fool in front of Adam was bad enough; if what she was going to say was dumb, she didn't really want the Sherriff to hear. But maybe he should know. "Ah, that man – the one you said could be Bulls-eye Lee…"

"I didn't say that."

"Not in so many words, but you looked like it," she said. She knew him very well, indeed. "Anyway," she continued, "He was spending a lot of money, buying everyone whiskey. I don't think he was thinking so straight after you put all that drink in to him. Someone mentioned it to him, but he just shrugged it off. He said, 'Don't worry about it. I'll have money to burn real soon,' and then… I think I was the only person who heard, because I was standing near him…"

"What?" asked Roy impatiently, raising his eyebrows.

"He said, 'Thanks to Benjamin Cartwright.'"

Adam nodded, his face smooth as he tried to act unaffected.

Beth blushed, feeling suddenly silly. "I know it isn't much, but I kept remembering what you said about bounty hunting and shady deals, so I came to find you."

"He could've been talking about getting a job. You said he wanted one, Adam," suggested Roy.

"Not with the way he said 'real soon'," insisted Beth. "Maybe he's planning on robbing you?"

Adam shook his head slowly. "It's possible, but it seems like a lot of trouble to go to, when a man like that could make more by pulling a trigger than he could find in our safe."

"Then what do you think?" asked Beth.

"The letter. I've got an idea," said Adam suddenly. "Beth, my father should be with Doc Martin. Get them both."

She nodded eagerly and left the Sherriff's office.

Coffee looked at Adam expectantly.

"Don't worry," said the cowboy, smiling as though he found the situation a little funny. "This should clear things up, whether it proves me right or wrong."

**AN HOUR LATER**

"It'll be a fantastic bit of playacting," said Ben. "I don't think I've tried anything like this for years."

"It _is_ better to make things happen on our time, not his," said Beth.

"Wait," said Roy, trying to understand. "Let me think." He couldn't help feeling that this plan of Adam's was weaker than most, and that it would end badly.

It was about an hour later, and Adam had just finished explaining his idea to Roy, Beth, Doc, and his father. They'd looked for Hoss and Joe to no avail, and eventually decided it could be explained to them later.

"So," continued the Sherriff, "you want Doc Martin to declare Ben dead, because then this Lee will check on it himself as soon as he can, instead of waiting to attack at his own leisure?"

"I think it's a marvelous idea!" cried Beth, who was sitting near the door and listening to Adam with an expression of admiration.

"I think there's a million ways it could go wrong," said Doc Martin slowly, "but I'm for it too. If he doesn't try to see Ben, he might just leave. That's what I would do."

Roy shrugged. "Adam, I hope you know what you're doing."

Adam looked at Ben, the last to give his consent. Did he not like the idea? But Ben nodded readily enough.

"It will be a relief to have everything settled," he admitted.

"Alright," said Adam, picking his hat up from Roy's desk and putting it back on. "I want to do this now, before Francis Lee starts 'thinking straight' again."

"Should I go find Joe and Hoss?" asked Beth.

"If you see them alone, explain. Otherwise I'll tell them myself, later," said Ben, and then he and Doc Martin left the office.

Roy sat back in his chair, having second thoughts. "I hope that the citizens of the town don't do anything they'll regret."

"It wouldn't be the first time," added Beth, at once worried.

"Don't worry," Adam assured them both, "I won't let anyone get ahold of me before I make my escape."

Beth's face cleared immediately, and she smiled.

"If you want to make yourself useful, Beth," he added, "get Sport and put him near Doc's place for me."

She nodded, and he gave her a quick kiss.

"Good luck," she called as he strolled out of the Sherriff's office, completely stoic.

Beth waited several long seconds, and then she left to take care of the horse and find Adam's brothers. They weren't in a saloon or the hotel. She was heading to the stables to look when she saw them.

Joe and Hoss were standing in front of Doc's, listening to the rest of their family arguing — along with half of the town.

_Darn it,_ she thought, knowing she couldn't get a chance to talk to them alone now. Then she stopped and listened, wondering what the eldest Cartwrights had found to fight about. She heard them shout angrily back and forth, and she nearly chuckled in surprise and amusement.

Her! They were fighting over _her_! Oh, her man was a cheeky one, alright!

**T****HE ****P****RESENT**

Beth made her way across the rocks, looking for telltale signs of a camp. She'd just gotten off the horse, her backside sore, and was walking, calling out Adam's name. Irritation was growing up inside of her; the stupid man couldn't have camped just a little closer to town?

Adam found her, rather than the other way around. He heard Beth calling, mounted Sport, and rode over to her. "Well?" he asked, stopping in front of her. "What happened?" He climbed down from his horse.

"When Frank heard Ben was dead, he cursed about a loss of good money and left town. Not long afterward there was a telegram from a man named Greg Mayeaux. They caught that Malone man, and he admitted to offering a thousand dollars to the man who killed Ben Cartwright. Around sundown Sherriff Coffee told everyone a shortened version of the truth. Of course, Hoss already knew, and he agreed with your idea all the way."

"And Little Joe?"

She bit her lip. "He left town right after you. I think he tried to trail you, but lost you once you went onto these rocks. Hop Sing told him you didn't say where you were going, so Joe went off toward Carson City."

"Then he doesn't know."

"No."

Adam sighed. "Then I'd better find him in Carson City before he does something he regrets."

Beth was horrified. "You're going after him? Adam, he might kill you!"

The oldest Cartwright boy shook his head, looking solemn. "He's my brother. I can make him understand. Besides, I thought Pa was dead once, and if someone could have saved me even a few hours of heartache by telling me the truth…I wish they had."

"I think you should stay here," said Beth weakly, faltering under his determination but wanting to keep him safe.

"Goodbye, Beth," was Adam's only response. He jumped back onto Sport and rode away before she could say another word.

"Stupid man!" she muttered. "I'll go find Hoss. He'll help me."

She climbed back onto the horse she'd rented from the stables and rode to the Ponderosa, where Ben and Hoss were probably awake and fretting over the missing members of their family, especially impetuous Little Joe.


	5. Chapter 5

V.

**SEVERAL DAYS LATER**

Frank was cursing his rotten luck.

He knew all about bad luck. Almost every type of it came his way at one time or another. His Ma and sister had died of a fever when he was six, leaving him to be raised by a bumbling, forgetful father who hadn't worked a day in his life. Frank's first pay for a month's work had been stolen when he was bushwhacked. He got fired from his first job two months later for something he hadn't done. Yes, indeed, Frankie Bulls-eye Lee knew all about rotten luck.

But coming into town to kill a man, only to have the man's son beat him to it…that was a first even for Frank.

_What a nice man he must have been,_ reflected Frank nastily, leaning back in his chair in the Carson City hotel lobby, his icy blue eyes surveying the world coolly.

The door opened wide, and in stepped a man with a walk that proclaimed him full of self-assurance. He wore dark clothes a dark hat, and his mouth had a crooked, ironic curve to it. He walked up to the desk of the lobby and asked the skinny man behind it for a room.

Frank studied the man, trying to remember who he was. Wasn't it just a few days ago that they'd met? Most of that day was a little fuzzy in his mind. Frank concentrated, and it hit him.

This was the man who'd bought his drinks. The one that Frank later discovered killed his own father.

Adam waited for the man to give him a room so that he could go get a drink. He sure was thirsty today! It had been a long night; he hadn't stopped to sleep, knowing that he would reach Carson City in the morning. The oldest Cartwright boy wanted to find his little brother just as quickly as he could.

A man across the room jumped to his feet and called Adam's name. "Adam Cartwright!"

Adam's heart nearly jumped out of his chest. Trying to get ahold of himself, he didn't turn around right away. Eventually he did look, turning slowly with that blank, unsurprised expression he was so grateful to possess. Anyone watching could have sworn he'd expected to find Frank here – which he certainly hadn't.

Frank was standing in a too-familiar position: feet apart, hat back, hands ready at his side, face angry. Adam felt a little jolt go up his spine when he realized today might end in bloodshed.

"Do you know how much money you cost me, Cartwright?" asked Frank. The few people milling about the lobby began to scoot away. The room was silent.

"Come now," was all Adam could think to say. "You can't be serious."

"I needed that money."

Adam nearly told him not to be ridiculous, but he bit his tongue. Of all the things to fight over… "I'm sorry about that…" he said slowly. Was this man really angry because Adam had prevented him from killing his Pa?

Frank's blood boiled over. This Cartwright was talking down to him! He hadn't really planned to shoot at Adam before now, but his temper got the better of him. He yanked out his gun and fired at the Cartwright without aiming.

Adam jumped out of the way, going for his own gun as Frank squeezed off another shot. The gun was in Adam's hand; he fired.

Pain ripped through Frank as the bullet slammed into his body and he fell backward. _That was bad,_ he knew at once. _That was a bad, bad hit._

He'd been stupid to challenge Cartwright, and now he would die. Frank felt a little panicked.

"C…Cart…" He tried to sit up.

Adam saw he was still alive and made his way over. He leaned over the injured man. "He needs a doctor," he told a tall, tan man who stood beside him.

The man nodded and ran out of the hotel.

"It was self-defense, Mister," said a black-haired girl in a light blue dress. "We can all testify to that."

Adam waved his hand, dismissing that thought for the moment.

Frank looked up and managed to talk, wincing as though every word was painful. "I…am not getting hung, but…" Frank gasped suddenly, his hard face going pale. "Do you think I could have a pastor?"

Adam looked behind him. Most of the people in the hotel were beginning to crowd around, but one man nodded and said with a thick southern drawl, "Ah'll go get the reverend." He left quickly.

An hour later, Adam was sitting in the saloon, sipping a beer but not enjoying it. A girl dressed in red sat across from him, fruitlessly trying to start a conversation.

Adam wondered listlessly why he was still hanging around. Why did he care whether Frank died or not? He'd wanted to kill Pa. But for some reason, Adam just couldn't leave until he knew what was going to become of Francis Lee.

The doctor walked in, sighing and lugging along his black bag. "Hello, Rachel," he greeted the pretty woman. "Can you get me a drink?"

"Sure, Doc," said the woman, standing up. "You just sit yourself down, and I'll be right back."

The doctor sat in her now-vacant chair and peered across the table cloth at the dark-haired cowboy. "Are you a friend of the man I was tending to?"

Adam smiled a little. "Hardly. Matter of fact, I barely know him. Why do you ask?"

The doctor sighed again. He looked like a lonely, tired man who saw too much suffering every day, much different than Doc Martin. "I was just wondering what friends and family he had."

Adam shrugged. "None, I think, but I could be mistaken. Is he going to make it?" He leaned forward.

The doctor shook his head. "The pastor was much more help to the poor soul than I was."

Adam stood up, head down, and picked his hat up from the table. He didn't put it on, though, out of respect for the subject at hand. "I see. His name was Francis Lee, also known as Frankie 'Bulls-eye' Lee. I don't know much more, but I should be in the hotel tonight if you do have any questions."

The good doctor nodded his thanks.

Adam paid for his drink and pushed the doors, stepping outside into the street. The bright, stinging sunlight didn't quite match his mood. A man, no matter how rotten and dishonest, had just died.

_I don't know of it did him any good, but I'm glad he got the reverend,_ Adam thought. Poor Frankie. Adam wondered, for the first time, if perhaps he _did _have friends somewhere. Would they miss Frank?

After one more melancholy sigh, Adam decided to let dead men lie, and let Frankie Lee be.

He continued down the street, walking towards the hotel. Joe might even be in the there if he was lucky. Poor Joe. The dead man who haunted the youngest Cartwright couldn't be left in peace as easily as Adam had left Frank. He was Joe's father, after all. And he was alive, though Little Joe didn't know it.

Suddenly someone grabbed onto Adam. Startled, Adam spun around, into a side alley, hand on his gun.

He was facing Little Joe, whose face was darkened by the fury and sorrow that came from losing a family member.

_A/N: Not my best writing, I know. This chapter was torture to write, so eventually I had to split it up into two pieces. Part of the reason for that was my ignorance. Namely, I don't remember how long it takes to get to Carson City on horseback. Another thing: I don't know what the Cartwrights would call their priest/pastor/minister person. I think they are some Protestant branch (because I've seen them read the Bible and attend Church and all) but I don't know much about their religion. If anyone can help, I would be grateful. The next chapter should be the last._


	6. Chapter 6

VI.

"Joe!"

Adam stared at his brother. He'd known Joe since the day he was born, and Adam could assess the younger man's mood in a second. He'd seen Joe hurt, mad, angry, hungry, sleepy, and knocking on Death's door. But he'd never, ever seen him with that degree of fury on his handsome face.

Adam had never before been scared of Joe Cartwright.

"I've been looking for you," said Adam.

"Sure you have," growled Joe, his eyes narrowing. His expression did not change.

"I have, Little Joe," said Adam calmly. "There's something I need to tell you…"

Joe wasn't listening. "Brother," he said, making the word sound like an insult, "I'm taking you to the Sheriff."

That suggestion sounded pretty good; the Sheriff could clear everything up. Besides, it was better than just standing there in the alley like they were doing now. But somehow Adam knew Joe couldn't wait that long to hear the truth. Adam's little brother was being slowly eaten from the inside. Like Frank Lee had been eaten up until the hate showed in his face and his eyes: the hate for the world. If he could, Adam had to set the record straight. _Now. _

"Okay, Joe," he said soothingly. "But first… First I need to tell you something."

Joe's expression slowly morphed. It became cold and hard, a mask, and seemed to be frozen onto him. But he did not respond, so Adam took that as the closest he would get to an invitation to proceed with what he had to say.

"Joe," he said, repeating the name again, hoping to melt his brother's mask. "About Pa…"

Joe hit him. Adam wasn't expecting his brother to haul off and punch him in the jaw, but that's what he did. Staggering backward, Adam fell against a wall of a building and gaped at Joe.

His brother's face was still hard, but there were tears in his eyes. "Shut up," he growled through clenched teeth. He struck again.

Adam ducked but didn't retaliate; there was no need to make Joe angrier. Soon Little Joe would get ahold of himself and stop.

But Joe had finally snapped after days of anguish, and he was not going to calm down. Another blow caught Adam's ear; the older man bit back a yelp.

Adam ducked to the back of the alley to avoid Joe's furious attacks, nearly tripping over a crate. "Joe!" he yelled. "Cut it out!"

Tears were now running down Little Joe's face. He lashed out again, as though hurting Adam would make him, somehow, hurt less.

Adam caught the punch before it landed. Hoping desperately to make Joe come to his senses and stop the beating, Adam hit him back, just once. He wasn't quite sure how it happened, but suddenly he was sprawled on the dusty ground and Joe was standing over him, his gun drawn and cocked. The very air around them seemed to freeze in place.

Meanwhile, Hoss was helping a sleepy Beth down from a horse.

She yawned. "I guess we should find Adam or Joe…or both."

Hoss wiped his hands on his vest and looked around. "Yes ma'am, Miss Rawls, but I don't rightly know where to start."

She sighed, making herself wake up fully. "How about a saloon?" Under her breath she added, "Men are always in saloons."

"That's as good a place to start as any," agreed Hoss, and she led the way to the nearest one. When they reached the door, though, he tried to keep her out.

"Ma'am, that ain't no place for a lady."

Beth laughed. "Hoss, I work in one. It's okay." She pushed her way inside, followed by one humiliated Cartwright.

After a quick look around, Beth decided that neither man she wanted was here, just a tired-looking man and a sick-looking drunk. Disappointed, she turned to go, but a vivacious girl in a red dress stopped her.

"You lookin' for someone?" she asked kindly.

Hoss stepped up. "Yes'm, my brothers. A smallish fellow with curly brown hair and a dark-haired, bigger man."

The girl nodded thoughtfully. "The dark-haired one – serious fellow with a dark shirt and hat?"

"Yes," Beth said.

"Well, sure's shooting I saw him. He wasn't very talkative. But it's no wonder, after killing that fellow and all."

Beth's stomach plummeted. She felt suddenly light-headed. "What fellow?"

The girl shrugged. "I don't know a thing about it. Ask Doc over yonder. Doc!"

The tired man looked up.

"These two wanna know about the fellow that was killed."

The doctor stood and made his way over. "A man called him Francis Lee," he said. "Are you two his family?"

Beth began breathing again. "No, sir," she said. "We're looking for the man who shot him."

The doctor looked anxious. "It was self-defense."

"We know. He's a friend of ours, a dark-clothed man."

The doctor smiled, relieved. "He left here not long ago. Said he was going to be at the hotel."

Beth nodded. "Thank you, doctor."

The doctor tipped his hat. "No trouble, ma'am." He went back to sit at the bar.

"Come on, Hoss, let's go get Adam," said Beth, and she turned again to leave.

"You come back now, hear, handsome?" laughed the rosy saloon girl.

Hoss tipped his hat and they were gone, on their way to the hotel.

In the alley, Adam's chest constricted until he couldn't breathe. _No. _His little brother was _not_ standing there pointing a gun at him. It wasn't possible.

Gone were the tears, but there was a manic gleam in Joe's bright eyes.

"Joe. Don't," warned Adam.

"Shut up," said Joe, his voice devoid of emotion. "You killed my father."

Adam couldn't remember ever being so afraid. He'd had many guns pointed at him, numerous brushes with death, and more than one rope put around his neck. All of that terror put together couldn't equal this, because Adam knew that if that gun went off, Joe would never get over it. He'd never forgive himself if he killed Adam, especially once he discovered Pa was alive. Not that Joe would have long to reflect over it anyway – he'd probably be hung.

_Hung? Oh, no, not my brother, no, _he prayed. _Don't let him pull that trigger._ The thought of Joe, falling through the trapdoor where everyone could see him, everyone could hear his neck snap as his body jerked to a stop, made him sick. Oh, how Pa would grieve.

"You killed Pa," repeated Joe, softer now.

Pa would only have one son left. Adam had to do something. But what could he do, here on the ground? What a tragic end the Cartwright family would come to, all thanks to Adam's stupid plan.

"Joe," he started. He had to say something, something wise enough to make Joe stop. Something had to make Joe rethink this plan of action. Adam settled for: "_Please._"

An electrical current couldn't have shocked Joe more. Joe's older brother had never begged in his life. Not when that lunatic Kane tortured him, not when he'd been an outcast for simply telling the truth. Even when Adam had a rope around his neck for a murder he didn't commit, he'd kept his mouth shut. The only time he used the word 'please' was in a sentence like, 'Joe, please pass the eggs.' Adam did_ not_ beg. And yet he just had, because he wanted to save his little brother from the worst mistake of his life.

Joe gawked, hardly believing his ears, and the crazy light slowly left his eyes. And then he put his gun up.

Adam's body relaxed. Slowly, while Joe watched, he got to his feet. The world began to spin on its axis again.

"Adam!" yelled a high-pitched voice, and suddenly Beth was there, throwing herself at him.

"Joe," called Hoss, entering the alley. "Joe, there you are."

"Hoss," sighed Joe heavily, hanging his head. "I found Adam."

"So I see," said Hoss. "Where have you been? Pa's worried sick."

Joe's head snapped up. He stared at Hoss, and then turned his head to look at Adam. "Pa," he mouthed wordlessly.

Adam nodded. "I was trying to tell you. Pa was going to tell you, but he didn't get a chance. The whole thing was a set up. I'll explain later, with Pa's help. You can get the Sheriff here to telegram Roy if you don't believe me."

Joe looked as though the weight of the world was lifted off his shoulders. Then it came crashing back down. "He's alive…and I – I… " His hand went to his gun and he looked ill. What had he almost done? His face spoke volumes, but all he said was, "Thank you, brother." The word wasn't an insult any more, but a term of endearment.

Adam smiled wearily. "Don't mention it. It's my job to keep you from doing something stupid." He paused. "But really, don't mention _any_ of it to _anyone_." He looked solemn suddenly. "And I'm sorry. The whole plan was a mistake."

"No, it wasn't," insisted Beth loyally. "Ben's okay and Lee's gone. Everything turned out for the best."

Adam smiled his appreciation and gave her a quick kiss.

Joe looked suddenly exhausted. "Let's go home."

Hoss slapped him on the back joyfully. "Little brother, that's the best idea you've ever had."

Nodding, Adam said, "I have to stop by and tell the doctor that I won't be staying overnight, and then we can head out."

This whole, sad episode could be left behind in Carson City, and it would never bother anyone again. They could leave and go home. Once they were again working side by side, they would forget. Forget the feel of a gun pointed at your own brother; forget the look in Francis Lee's eyes as he lay dying; forget it all. Or so they fervently hoped.

They left the alley, Beth following the boys. She caught up to Adam and pulled him back a little ways.

"What?" he asked, looking concerned.

"Adam," she said with a coy smile, "I've been wanting to tell you. About that argument you and your father were having…"

He waited, smiling.

"Well, there are easier ways to propose."

He tweaked her hair and winked at her.

_A/N: __**End**__. Do you think it was over-done? Hmmm. Well, you know I welcome any constructive criticism. Thank you for reading all the way to the end; I hope you enjoyed. I'm kind of considering a sequel. Again I say: Hmmm. _


End file.
